The hundred yard headache
by RainaParker
Summary: Trent has a long night after a mission mishap. First work in this fandom. And first work in many years. Also done on mobile and no beta.
1. Chapter 1

The headache is what woke him. It was the type of pounding that almost makes you forget your own name and for a moment any movement makes your stomach roll. Climbing out of bed and walking through his kitchen a glance at the sink told him water might help but reaching up for the cabinet door shot pain down his neck and into his spine. Water would have to wait.

Shuffling to the sliding glass door Trent took a deep breathe of the clean Virginia air and reminded himself that they were all safe but that didn't ease the rapid beating of his heart which only added to the throbbing in his head.

Closing the sliding glass door as softly as possible the click of the latch felt like a gunshot to his pounding head as he wilted into the deck chair and reminded himself that they were all safe. The medic in him knew that if he couldn't get his breathing under control soon the hyperventilation would lead to loss of consciousness but knowing and doing were two different thing.

Breathe in one, two, three, four. Hold one, two, three, four. Out one, two, three, four. The distant sound of gunfire echoed within his aching head. An endless cycle of chaos. "Bravo 1 to all Bravo signs respond" The silence unbearable even as he knew the outcome.

Leaning over to vomit on his freshly sealed deck the breathing techniques went out the window. Maybe just maybe he thought passing out from hyperventilating wouldn't be such a bad idea. Sweat dripped down his neck despite the cool night air and the tremors he felt caused him to curl up into himself just a bit.

Breathe, Trent, just breathe. The sudden sound Perry's calm voice "Bravo 1, Bravo 6 is down and has Tangos moving toward him. I'm changing positions to pick some off" repeated in his aching head. The hundred yards might as well have been a hundred miles from his brother. He was useless.


	2. Chapter 2

The next time Trent woke his headache had subsided and was replaced with a stiffness that can only be accomplished by sleeping upright in a wooden deck chair. The low light of dawn accompanied by the chirp of crickets and the dampness of the morning dew did nothing to calm him. It would be hot today but in the very early morning hour a chill caused the hair on his arms to stand.

Slowing climbing out of the Adirondack chair he reminded himself that they were all safe. The weight of the last 48 hours and the panic that caressed his mind hadn't subsided as he reached his kitchen. Filling and then refilling his water he reached for the advil on his countertop and reminded himself that they were all safe.

Jason had texted that everyone was going to Ray's for a get together in the afternoon and he would ride out the loneliness until then on his couch. With a throw blanket tucked around him he readied himself for the next few hours knowing that if he woke his brothers at this hour the only thing he would accomplish would be worrying them. So he would wait. Jason had said afternoon. Trent took a deep breathe and decided late morning would do. Helping to set up would be his excuse to not be alone.

Breath, Trent, just breathe became his mantra for the next few hours. The ringing woke him with a groggy start. The phone seemed a hundred yards away. The heat of the day waving into his living room from his still open sliding glass door and the throw blanket that was now twisted around him from fitful sleep added to his confusion.

By the time the ringing stopped and he detangled himself there was a hard knock on his front door. Stumbling toward the door he ran a hand down his face.

"What's up Jace? I thought we were meeting later at Ray's." The confusion in his voice collided with the worry staring back from Jason's.

"Trent it's almost dinner time. You turn your ringer off? We've been calling." The reply wasn't what he was expecting as Jason entered his home. The stickiness of his shirt clinging to his back and the dampness of his hair became overwhelming as Jason moved to close the sliding door and turned back to face him "You okay, brother?"

"Yeah, yeah just didn't sleep well... uh had a headache." He looked to the floor under the strain of Jason's gaze. Jason saw the puke on the deck running through his sleep muddled brain.

"You up for Ray's man? Everyone would understand if you need a raincheck." Jason's words meant to be an excuse instead caused him slight panic.

"NO! no, I'm good, give me 5 and we'll go" slightly forceful and not unnoticed.

"Trent, no offense brother but go shower. You reek of sweat and vomit." And there it was, Hayes knew he wasn't okay. He wouldn't say it but he knew.


	3. Chapter 3

Riding shotgun in Jason's truck Trent stared aimlessly out the passenger window. A song played on the radio but honestly he couldn't even hear it. The only sounds in his head were the sound of comms crackling to life, the sound of gunfire getting closer, the soft whimper in Clay's long awaited response and his own pounding heart. He wondered when his heart rate might return to normal and decided that he needed to focus on his breathing more.

Breathe, Trent, just breathe. The slowing of the truck surprised him as they weren't even close to Ray's house. Turning he noticed Jason staring at him, mimicking the sniper breathing they both knew. It was then that he realized Jason wasn't mimicking but encouraging him and as he panted he knew this was bad.

Gasping and gagging Jason reached a hand into his shoulder "Breathe, Trent, just breathe." Sure like that wasn't what he was already attempting to do.

Suddenly the space in the truck began to close in on him as hot wet tears streamed down his face and the salty taste mixed with snot entered mouth. Grabbing the handle and grasping for the door handle he basically fell from the truck as Jason ran around to help steady him. Fuck this was bad.

The taste of salt and bile mixed with dust that he knew didn't actually exist hear were his only focus and he went to his knees. They were all safe and home and waiting for him as he vomited on the side of the road.

Jason knelt beside him hand on his shoulder and water bottle offered. His shaking hands allowed only small sips and he willed himself back to his trembling legs.

"Jace, I'm sorry." He kicked the dirt over his vomit and stared at the ground hoping it would swallow him. He wasn't expecting the arms around him, wasn't expecting the hand on the back of his head tangled in his sweaty hair pulling him close, wasn't expecting to be held up.

It was Trent who took care of his brothers. Sure Jason made the decisions, Ray gave the life advice, Sonny broke the tension, Brock gave them stength in his quiet calmness, and Clay made them remember to feel but it was him who took care of them all. And maybe that was it. It was Clay. They were all safe.

The Kid got to him. He thought he'd lost him from a hundred yards. A hundred yards that felt like a million miles. That Kid taught him to feel and shit he needed to learn how not to because he was wrapped in his bosses arms in the side of the road with bile still rising in his throat.

Pulling up to Ray's Trent knew Jason would say nothing. It would stay forever between them. It would never be spoken of again unless he wanted to discuss it.

Ray's little ones were running in circles around a slip and slide with Uncle Sonny spraying a hose while Niama laughed heartedly. This was his family. This is where he belonged. Brock was lazily throwing a ball for Cerb who had most likely been chasing it for hours. And Clay was lounging with an ice pack to his head. Trent winced just seeing him. The hand on his shoulder told him Jason noticed as they walked towards the group.

"Hey brother, you hungry?" Ray smiled as he moved to grab a plate. The idea of food made his stomach rumble but also made him want to gag again.

"Nah, you know he wants a beer!" As Sonny handed it to him he felt far away... as if he was swimming or rather sinking.

"How's the head?" Trent was legitimately concerned but more importantly he needed to reach out to Clay, to know he was no longer a hundred yards away.

"All good. Just a mild concussion. Niama insists I leave this on though." He said it as he lifted the ice pack.

"Put that back on now." She called from the yard and walked towards the men gathered closer to the cooling grill. "Trent help me in the house." He could swear she had a radar for weakness and if there was one thing he felt right now it was weak.

Returning to the yard Niama called to the kids that it was bath time and then they could watch a movie before bed. She handed Ray a lighter and he knew that meant to spend the evening with his brothers in the yard around a campfire.

"Trent, you good?" The genuine concern in Sonny's voice was slightly startling to him and he saw that all eyes were now on him.

It was now or never. He could lie and say sure. He could admit he wasn't. He could fall apart. In that moment the last few days reflected back from their eyes and he could feel his heart trying to escape his chest.

Breathe, Trent, just breathe.

"Well if you count panic attacks so bad I'm puking as okay then yeah, I'm good."

He exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding and waited for the fallout that would come from this. His eyes glassed over and he lowered his head. "Nah, brother. I'm not good at all and I'm not so sure why... we all made it home. Everyone is safe and that doesn't seem to help. I'm scared." The words tumbled from his lips as the tears began to run down his face and Cerb layed his head on Trent's lap.


	4. Chapter 4

The silence that followed was just that... silence. There was just quiet. The six men just sat staring at the fire and being together. Trent let the tears fall and reminded himself that they were all safe for what felt like the millionth time as he looked at the tear blurred images before him. Brock tilted his head back looking toward the sky and watched the stars while Cerb curled at his feet. Jason sipped his beer and glanced at the others. Ray stirred the fire and weakly smiled in his direction as his eyes shifted back to the fire. Sonny wiggled uncomfortablely in the lawn chair with the broken cup holder that he'd argued with Clay over. Clay having won out due to his head injury looked back at Trent. There wasn't pity in his eyes and for a split second Trent couldn't identify what it was he saw in the Kid's eyes. The eye contact was only broken when Trent looked down and wiped at his eyes knowing Clay's eyes were still on him.

"Clay, can I ask you something?" It was Trent that broke the silence his outburst had caused.

"Anything, Brother" Clay's blue eyes still locked on his with a certainty that madr Trent fear this conversation more than not having it and just continuing to cry.

"Why the hell are you staring at me while I cry? And why do you look guilty when you didn't do anything wrong and who's better looking me or Sonny?" The last question was the only way he could stop the rambling and continue the conversation.

"Never seen you cry before. It's my fault your crying and definitely you." The answer was sudden and sure.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa... Trent you sure he ain't got more than a concussion?"

"Shut up, Sonny. Clay what do you mean it's your fault?" It was as if the rest of the team no longer existed and Clay and Trent we suddenly engulfed in a very private moment.

"Trent you really don't get it huh? When I got my bell rung on the last op and you weren't there. I was okay. But when I came to you weren't. I knew then that you weren't when you were checking me over. I... I'm not sure. You know we don't ever talk about Manila but you saved my leg, hell you saved my life there. And the look in your eyes it was the same as Manila. I don't remember much from getting blow to hell. I remember Sonny yelling my name and I remember the fear in your eyes. And it was the same fear I saw on this op." It was the rawness in his words that caused Sonny to reach over and put a hand on Clay's shoulder. He hadn't know Clay remembered anything from the blast that nearly stole his life.

Trent's breath hitched and he blinked back the next cascade of tears as he digested Clay's words. "My head hurts" it was the only response he had and with everything in him he knew it was enough.

"Mine too." Clay lowered his gaze back to the fire with Sonny's hand still planted on his shoulder.

"Someday it will happen. Someday I won't get there in time. Someday there won't be enough supplies. I won't know what to do. And I'll have to sit back and watch... maybe from a hundred yards away." His breathing was rapid probably too much so and he could feel the numbness in his fingertips from it.

"Trent, you know damn well that there are always a million what if situations and that we know you would do what had to be done no matter what. We trust that if there is a way you'll find it." Jason almost sounded angry. This op hadn't even been that bad... not bad enough to warrant this reaction. But he wasn't angry at all...worried, scared, and sorry... but not angry and they all knew it.

"Brother, no one I trust more than you. If it's my time that's one thing and if not then you got me" Ray nodded reassuringly toward him.

Breathe, Trent, just breathe. It wasn't helping but somehow the mantra kept repeating in his mind. His world was spinning and he suddenly felt hot and nauseous again. Panting and gasping he suddenly realized his vision was tunneling and he hoped he didn't land in the fire.

As it turned out he didn't actually fall. Instead the one person who wouldn't look away was suddenly in his face. A hand on each side of his head. "Hey Buddy, I know you feel like shit, and your scared, and upset but I need you to breathe with me. In... and out... good... you've got this. You're good. Keep breathing with me." At this point Trent was pretty sure he heard Jason telling Ray it wasn't his only panic attack that day but at this point it didn't matter anymore.

After a few minutes it subsided and Trent was more than exhausted from his emotional duress. "Thanks Clay... Hey, Boss what happens now?" His voice was small like Mikey in trouble.

"What you mean?" The confusion apparent on Jason's face.

"Not sure what happens from here? I mean panic attacks in the field when Clay isn't next to me to calm me down... I don't know if he's say a hundred yards away?" He almost laughed but the sound that escaped was a cross between a chuckle and a sob.

"You've had a few bad days... we've all had a few bad days."

"Yeah like bossman said a bad day is all, get drunk, give some money to some dancers and move on, that's all brother." Sonny shifted again in his uncomfortable chair.

"Hey Trent, even from a hundred yards away, I know you got me always Brother." There was a glassy look in his eyes that were once again locked on Trent's. "Now for real man, my head hurts and I'm exhausted. I know you rode with Jason but your place is closer and I'm not sure I should be driving... can I crash at your place?" And with that Trent stood. Clay needed rest and so did he. The ride was quiet and as the two entered his house Trent was grateful not to be alone.


	5. Chapter 5

_Dust swirled and fear filled his soul as Trent hunkered down behind a crumbling half wall that once was a house, a home filled with love and laughter. A husk of what it once was... he cursed and coughed on the dirt. The half wall... a husk... Clay. What if Clay was gone like the laughter in that shattered building. Gone. A husk of the Kid whose hair he had ruffled hours ago. Gone. And Trent gasped... breathe, Trent, just breathe. It felt like an eternity until the insurgents were either down or retreating._

_"Bravo 1... Bravo 6... I'm... good... I lost my footing. Knocked my head... hurts..ah shit." It was the tone. The slight waver in his voice almost a whimper. Trent could feel it in his soul. The pain he was powerless to help. His heart pounding within his chest... breathe, just breathe._

_The run to exfil was filled with chaos. Tripping, stumbling, and cursing Trent was pulled into the helo by Brock. It was there that he finally had eyes on Clay who was leaning on Sonny._

_"Tr'nt I'm good brother." His almost name sent alarm bells ringing... severe concussion, brain bleed, cracked skull, something else entirely that caused the Kid to slip and go down? His heart slammed in his chest as he assessed his brother and for the first time in years he prayed. He couldn't lose him now not after everything, after Manila._

_"Clay, stay awake! Don't you dare close your eyes... Sonny keep him upright damn it!" Clay's eyes lifted and locked with Trent's. Panicking doesn't look good on the normally stoic medic and he can see concern in his brother's eyes but he can't help the rawness in his voice._

_Please dear God, I can't lose him now, not now... please I was only a hundred yards away._

_Breath, Trent, just breathe._

The sunlight filtered through the vertical blinds he had no recollection of closing and the slight breeze through the open sliding glass door woke Trent. Inhaling deeply his senses were filled with the bitter sweet aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Clay. Clay had stayed.

Shedding the throw that was once again twisted around his middle he slowly made his way toward the kitchen and the coffee it contained. Rarely was his coffee ready and he wondered how he had not heard Clay making it.

On the back deck Clay sat in one of his Adirondack chairs sipping his own coffee. "Morning. Hope I didn't wake you... and uh I also slept in your bed after you crashed on the couch." Clay half smirked at his luck in getting the bed over the couch.

"You're good." Slowly not to spill his overly filled coffee he lowered himself in the free chair. "How'd you sleep? How's your head?"

Clay stretched as he set his coffee down. "Slept better than I expected to. You?" He avoided the second question and the concern in his voice was a tangible thing. Trent felt as though he could reach out and touch the worry the Kid had for him. It was odd.

"Good. Slept like a rock." It was a lie that they both knew he was telling.

"Hey brother, it's okay you know... to not be okay." The words were quieter than those previously spoken.

Breath, Trent, just breathe.

With shaking hands Trent raised his coffee to sip the hot liquid. The silence like a blanket surrounded them and Clay began to wonder if the night before had been an exception. If in the light of a new day the emotions of the night before had been locked back into the recesses of Trent's mind.

"I don't know how to do this Kid. Concussions, broken bones, hell you can try to bleed out at my feet... but I don't know how to feel like this." Breathing slowly, carefully, intentionally was all he could do.

The sun was almost completely in the sky by the time Clay found the words to express what had been running through his aching head.

"Brother..." carefully Clay formed his words, unsure of himself and how to help. "No one expects you to bring us back from the dead. There isn't a moment that we don't know the price we might pay but that's on us not on you." Clay with his eyes locked on Trent... those damn blue eyes Trent thought he would never see full of life again.

"I was scared Clay. Scared in a way I'm not sure I've ever felt before. I close my eyes and I'm back there again. And I don't know..." trailing off his eyes lowered to the coffee Clay was drinking. "Any coffee in that milk?"

"Not milk. Powdered cream. I keep it in my car. Wanna try it?" Clay was excitedly headed toward the kitchen before Trent could refuse his offer.

"Vanilla? It's not horrible but damn it's sweet for so early." Sickenly sweet but that didn't stop Trent from sipping the coffee anyway much to Clay's delight.

Breathe, Trent, just breathe. They sat on the back deck drinking too sweet coffee for hours. Trent began to wonder if Clay was planning to leave or if his worry was keeping him. But Clay seemed content to sit and if he were honest with himself Trent was content to keep him close.


	6. Chapter 6

"I'm not sure I have ever known how to be taken care of..." It was a simple statement that held the weight of the world. "I mean I spend so much time making sure everyone is safe and okay... I think I forgot about me." Trent stared at the coffee table as they waited for the pizza delivery.

Breathe, Trent, just breathe. There were no more tears. No more panic. No more slamming within his chest. If he felt anything he would describe it as emptiness, numbness, a void.

"Yeah buddy... that's pretty damn obvious. You just figuring that one out?" Clay's lips curled just slightly. "I mean it's not like you get much of a break from our shit to deal with your own."

The laugh that escaped from Trent was borderline hysterical. And as Clay rose to collect the pizza at the door tears again streamed down Trent's face. This time for an entirely different reason.

"Eat. Before you drop. When was your last meal anyway?" Clay suddenly realized Trent most likely hadn't actually eaten in at least a few days.

"Does that coffee from this morning count?" The shake of Clay's head confirmed to Trent that no it most certainly did not and he thought about how he would react to his brothers not taking care of themselves the way he wasn't. "Well then it's been a few days." The guilt in his eyes forced him to look down.

Hours later Trent was dozing on the couch while Clay read a book in the kitchen. There was a calmness in the air. A stillness that comforted Clay as he glanced toward his brother. He wasn't sure how long Trent would allow him to stay but he planned to until he was kicked out.

The knock on the door disturbed the calmness and Clay awkwardly walked from the kitchen. Trent's continued sleeping surprised him. Opening the door in bounded a very excited Cerberus right on to the couch, onto the no longer sleeping Trent.

"Down boy down!" Brock rushed in to the living room to try to corral his very excited dog.

"He's fine." Trent groggily stated as he struggled to sit upright under the weight of the muscular malinois.

"And you? How's uh your um headache?" So that's what they would refer to his near mental breakdown as... a headache which in all reality wasn't completely inaccurate.

"Better, brother, better." There was truth in his words.

"Good. Scared me a bit... more than some jackass knocking himself out mid-op already had..." Brock tilted his head toward Clay who was pulling cold pizza from the refrigerator.

"I hate to give Sonny credit but I think he might have been right about liking you better when you didn't talk!" The laugh from Clay spread thoughout the room and even Cerb was excitedly bouncing in a full body tailwag!

"Traitor" was the only thing a laughing Brock could say to the excited pup.

Bravo filtered into the cages months later after what could only be discribed as a clusterfuck of a mission. Heads hung low and spirits even lower. Yes they all made it home slightly worse for the wear and they had accomplished their mission but it had been a long week that felt like one never ending day. As the men put away their gear and mumbled about food, showering, and sleep, Trent repeated his mantra breathe, Trent, just breathe.

"Hey uh guys... umm." His stammering had everyone's attention and an alertness that none felt capable of returned to his five brothers. "I... um... I don't feel so great. Kinda have a... a headache." He was unsure what to say, how to ask for help as the panic began to set in.

Trent sat on the bench and lowered his head to his hands. As he felt an arm around his back he exhaled and the panic began to subside just slightly.

"Hey brother, got ya some coffee." The sweet vanilla filled his nostrils as Clay magically produced the paper cup.

"Fire at my house tonight." Ray was texting Niama as he said it.

"New apartment building is being fumigated, you care if I crash at your place, Trent?" It was Jason with his arm still wrapped around him.

"Pizza okay with everyone? Don't have time for a proper Texas bbq" Sonny shrugged.

"Yeah... Coffee, pizza, fire, yeah Jace you can stay... umm Clay... you got more creamer in your car?" The nod confirmed he did "Kinda like it now."

Taking a deep breath and once more repeating to himself "breathe, Trent, breathe" he stood and headed toward the showers. His five brothers sharing concerned but relieved looks knowing that while he had a headache he would be just fine once they took care of him a bit.


End file.
